This will be deleted soon - The Wrong Hope *Complete and Free*

30. The Enchantress

Guy

Year: 1983 1st of August, Monday, almost dawn, Summer.

Christ in hell. I put my head against the steering wheel. That was intense. A lot of things made more sense now. Little b***h had been pulling my strings since the moment she woke up, whether she knew it or not but I was in the driving seat now and I wasn’t going to let her under my skin again. Ever. She was mine.

After a couple of minutes spent pulling my s**t together I threw the car into drive and started towards the main road. Dawn was pushing up the night and pulling at my eyes while hunger clutched my innards. Food was now top of my to-do list. Over the last 2 nights I’d only eaten at the diner and the cold stale to-go box that what’s her name, the busy body waitress, had given Doll so I was starving. Ah, Jo, that was it.

I drove a few miles up the road and pulled into the first diner I came across parking right under the window. I didn’t want to let it out of my sight. I took the booth next to my car and ordered from a bored looking waitress, short, a little plump, late 50’s with a tired perm. Hag didn’t even crack a smile but the coffee was hot and the food was fresh so I couldn’t give a s**t.

Once my plate was cleared and my cup refilled I pulled out my notebook. Man I was tired but I needed to get my head straight. If I didn’t go with a plan I’d be f****d. Witches were sneaky and I would have to be sneakier. My ace in the hole was that the Enchantress owed me one, big time and when I called it in she wouldn’t be able to refuse. However if I showed my hand too early the Enchantress might push me to fold and it wasn’t like I had a line of Witches at the ready so it was vital I played my hand well.

My game plan wasn’t exactly complicated but putting it down on paper always helped me focus. On a blank page I scribbled my basic plan:

Agree a price on basic loot

Get paid

Barter potions 1 & 2 to activate potion 3

No deal - sell 1 & 2 pull favour

Reveal Doll

Feeling organised I crushed the notebook back into my pocket. If I could get what I wanted and still keep the favour I’d be laughing. Dumping some money on the table I went out to the car. I needed a piss and some sleep but I wasn’t letting my treasure leave my eyeline - not even for a second. After a couple of miles I spied a place to stop.

Once I’d backed the car behind the shrubbery I took a much needed piss before reclining the driver's seat so I could take a nap. Before I settled down I fiddled with my wrist watch setting an alarm. It was a tasty bit of kit with an analogue face and digital bar across the bottom for the alarm. I could have gone for a completely digital one but it was too complicated for me with all those f*****g buttons and besides it was easier for me to plan out my time looking at a proper clock face like a little pie I could cut up with my mind.

It was just before 8am now and it was a little over 6hr drive North-West to Saltville, Virginia. I could afford to lose an hour for sleep which would put my ETA around 3:30/4ish. Doll would still be out for the count so no fuss there, likely I had a solid 12 hours before I had to worry about her waking up.

---

The drive to Saltville was uneventful and I made good time, getting there just after 3pm. The nap had not been enough and left me with a crick in my neck, the fuel gauge was tipping dangerously close to empty and my wallet wasn’t doing any better. I needed a payday and I needed it bad. I parked the car around the back in the shade before taking out the duffle bag and locking the doors.

I slowed my gait to a stroll and lit up. Damn last cigarette, everything was running on empty. The lair of the Enchantress was in a rather shitty looking liquor store, the business was a front but they did actually sell liquor. I couldn't fathom why she bothered, it would probably be easier to just glamour and ward the place so any dim wit would just get turned around. Maybe she needed the income, perhaps being a Witch wasn’t as lucrative as you’d think; well a p***y ass Witch that toed the line probably didn’t make the big bucks. I smirked.

I tossed the cigarette butt and entered the store. The bell dinged announcing my arrival to the Enchantress’s little guard dog standing behind the counter. Darren? Darrel? Darius? D something. Dickhead was what I would have called him if I could afford to get in a pissing contest but alas no such luck. My best behaviour was called for.

I moved between the crowded shelves, taking care not to knock anything off, going straight to the counter. Mr. Dickhead was 20 something, head to toe muscle with a mop of dirty yellow hair and sharp dusty blue eyes. I didn’t know a lot about him and I didn’t need to; just a yappy stray the Enchantress brought home.

“Hey, need to see the Enchantress.” I told Mr. Dickhead with a brief but polite smile and careful tap on the side of my bag.

“Who’s asking?” Mr. Dickhead asked with a ridiculous grin plastered on his face. Mutt knew very well who the f**k I was but I played nice.

“Guy Murphy.” I replied evenly, I wasn’t going to let this bastard rile me up.

“Mistress! There is A guy here to see you.” Mr. Dickhead called out without looking away from me, his grin eating up even more of his face. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at his stupid jibe. Like I hadn't heard that one before.

“Pleased with yourself, huh?” I eyed him feeling unamused.

“Yup!” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. f*****g gobshite.

“Deet?” A soft feminie voice called. “Who is it?” A moment later a slender hand pulled the curtain covering the doorframe to one side and the Enchantress stepped through.

The Enchantress paused in the doorway regarding me with cautious eyes.

“Mr. Murphy, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Her voice was like honey thick and sweet.

“Well Enchantress, I was hoping to do some business.” I patted my bag gently. She visibly relaxed, seemingly relieved that I didn't appear to be here to call in my favour. A Witches’ favour was rare indeed and I was sure she regretted it.

“Close up the shop and meet us out the back please Deet.” She told him before turning to me. “Mr. Murphy, this way please.”

I followed her into the back room. I’d been here a fair few times and it always looked the same. Every wall was floor to ceiling shelving, cupboards and cabinets, so much so I wasn't even sure what colour the walls were. One corner had a small kitchen area where the Enchantress was currently standing making tea. I enjoyed a cup of tea as much as I enjoyed drinking pond water but it wasn’t wise to refuse a Witches’ hospitality.

I sat in the murky orange armchair at the round table in the center of the room with my bag on my lap, trying not to wrinkle my nose at the smell of the incense she was burning . There was a tall floor lamp behind me capped with a clumsy looking lamp shade, ugly gold tassels and a dull floral pattern. Under foot there was a tired and faded rug, I think it might have been red once upon a time but now it was grey and threadbare. Everything looked tired and old, bar the Enchantress herself who was young and radiant.

Her hair was a mass of tight flaming red curls, they blazed against her pale skin. Freckles adorned her nose and cheeks, I knew they also covered her shoulders from a previous visit when she'd been wearing a strappy dress. Today her top was pale blue, hugging her slender body, with three quarter length sleeves and a scooped neck. Just the barest amount of her collar bone was visible. She was tall and took advantage of the fact with a floor length pleated skirt in a mustard yellow. Her feet were bare giving her a better connection to the earth. A red sash pinched her waist matching the red headband that kept the hair from her face. High cheek bones made her look regal. Her lips were plump and full, a luscious red even without makeup, and her button nose was perfectly central.

Soft enticing femininity rolled off her, truly the Enchantress was enchanting; the only thing hard were her eyes. Shining and green they were sharp and cutting, they were the only warning that this delicious woman could be dangerous. I didn't know her true name and likely never would. There was power in names and Witches clutched their true names tighter than a nun gripped the bible in a w***e house.

She set the tea in front of me and I thanked her before taking a polite sip. Just then her little lap dog came in and took the final seat at the table, what had she called him? Deet? For the life of me I couldn’t guess what the hell that was short for.

I wondered if they were f*****g.

When I found myself with the insane luck of being owed a favour I’d briefly considered using it for just that. She was s**t hot and I bet she was wild in bed, animalistic even. I bet she likes it up the ass. It would have been epic but it was just too valuable of a thing to waste on one night of getting my d**k wet, not to mention that it would have burnt the bridge for any future transactions. Hell she might have even killed me after the favour was complete. Not going to lie, I spent over a year trying to scratch that itch; screwed every redhead I could get my hands on.

I shook out the thoughts and took another sip of the crappy tea.

“So Mr. Murphy, shall we get down to brass tax? I know you didn’t come for the tea.” She crooned while cradling her own cup.